


do you see her face?

by poisonrain



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Lexa is Luke Clarke is Lorelai, Literally a Gilmore Girls AU, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:09:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23518219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisonrain/pseuds/poisonrain
Summary: “Pleasy please please, Lexa?” Clarke looks up at her through mascared lashes. She even pouts a little bit, for god’s sake.Lexa pretends that she can’t feel her heart groping, blindly, for its other half. Must. Resume. Normal. Breathing.“Fine. One more cup, and then that’s it- I’m cutting you off!”A Gilmore Girls AU.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin & Lexa, Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Comments: 11
Kudos: 69





	do you see her face?

“I _need_ coffee.”

Lexa emits a loud, protracted sigh. She turns to face the pretty (no, scratch that, _beautiful)_ blonde at the counter.

“You always say that.” In the decade since Clarke has been a daily patron of Lexa’s diner, she’s always greeted her, at eight am sharp, with those same three words. Rearrange the letters, add a few more, and you might be able to spell the three words that Lexa so desperately wants to hear from her most frequent customer. 

“But this time I neeeeeeeeeeeeed it.”

“You’ve already had three cups in the space of fifteen minutes.” Lexa keeps telling her that drinking a literal _vat_ of coffee, every single day, is neither healthy nor nutritious. The stuff’s basically poison that just takes a long time to kill you. Of course, Clarke never listens. 

“Pleasy please please, Lexa?” Clarke looks up at her through mascared lashes. She even pouts a little bit, for god’s sake. 

Lexa pretends that she can’t feel her heart groping, blindly, for its other half. Must. Resume. Normal. Breathing.

“Fine. One more cup, and then that’s it- I’m cutting you off!” 

“Thanks, Lex!” She leans across the counter to press a careless kiss to Lexa’s cheek. The (un)lucky skin burns in sympathy. For the briefest of moments, the mixture of perfume and caffeine and something just so distinctly _Clarke_ is all that Lexa can smell. She feels drunk.

“So, um, you want any donuts with that?” Lexa, after what feels like half an eternity, finally steadies herself to ask.

Clarke considers for a moment. “I’ll just take four. No, wait, three. I have a lunch date so I don’t want to be _too_ full.”

_A lunch date? Who with?_

It isn’t until she sees the confused look on Clarke’s face that Lexa realises she must have asked at least one of these questions out loud.

“I mean, uh, who’s the lucky guy?” Whoever, he is, he’s lucky indeed. Lexa is overcome by hatred for this faceless, nameless man who probably chews really loudly and undoubtedly has terrible fashion sense.

Clarke sips her coffee, unaware of the chaos unfolding in Lexa’s stupid, stupid brain. “Okay, so I don’t want this to get all over town, but…” She lowers her voice. “It’s Finn.”

“Finn?!” 

Clarke’s eyes widen. “Jesus, Lexa, I don’t think they quite heard you in Hartford. You might want to speak up a bit.” She scans the diner, probably hoping she won’t find Raven or Octavia. The pair are _notorious_ gossips. 

“Sorry, I just- Finn? Really?”

It’s not even nine am, and Lexa’s day is already ruined. Finn isn’t good enough for Clarke. He’s not even good enough to be her servant. The idea of his stupid, smarmy grin kissing her perfect, perfect lips…. It’s _incongruous._ Like a bear handling fine china. A heathen on his knees to take the sacrament. It’s all _wrong._

“I thought you two called things off.” 

“Well, we just might call them back on,” Clarke quips. “I’ll keep you posted, in any case.” Lexa can’t think of anything worse than Clarke “keeping her posted” on her disgustingly romantic afternoon. She can’t tell her that, of course, so she nods instead. 

Clarke drains the last of her coffee. “How are those donuts coming along Lex? I better get to the inn, I have a meeting with some suppliers in half an hour.”

“All ready.” Lexa finishes bagging the donuts, and hands them over the counter. She tries (and fails) not to blush when their fingertips touch. For a moment she’s a fifteen year old moron in love. Clarke always manages to make her feel like a teenager with her first crush. 

“Thanks. I’ll see you later.”

“I won’t serve you any more coffee!” 

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll see about that!”

And then she’s gone, and Lexa, as she does at approximately the same time every morning, hides her head in her hands. She is utterly, completely, impossibly _screwed._

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written in like a billion years so I apologise for the fact this is very rusty- I will learn how to make words sound good again in time!


End file.
